


In my dream I am a lost child, hunting trough the leaves of the night for your hands

by cloudylane



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Slow Build, slightly dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudylane/pseuds/cloudylane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who's to say when love should occur?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smoke and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, finally, the first chapter of one of my longer works, its going to be fairly slow build and I am not sure exactly were this is going, also I may sometimes need a while to update…  
> But I hope you stick with me for the ride =)
> 
> By the way the title is taken from a poem by Pablo Neruda
> 
> Enjoy reading

James hardly noticed the final whistle only that the noise from the stands exploded and somehow it got harder to breath. Over. Just like that. Teo sinks onto the grass a few feet away, crying. Comfort. He would go over in a second, he just needed his breath back and chase away the pain. He suddenly felt all those kicks, even his damn knees want to quit, stupid body.Though it had a point, there was nothing left to fight for. He failed. He would not cry like a child, not in front of them. He fought so hard, he should be celebrating. It couldn’t just end like this, but of course it could. It just did. How was it that even though you knew what was coming, it was still so hard so comprehend? Why…Why did it feel like the world ended just a little? He need to pull himself together, be strong for his team, his country. Has to fight not fail. It was too late for that. His knees were still betraying him. Fucking body. Though the idea is not so bad, lay down flat, disappear into the grass. Not feeling, not knowing anything. But before he could give in he was pulled against someone. He wanted to struggle, after all, he was supposed to do the comforting, being strong is part of his job. Still he couldn’t quite hold off his tears, leaning into the embrace without meaning to. The kit under your Fingers was yellow. David Luiz. „Congratulations, beautiful goal“ At least he managed that much, somewhere between portuguese and spanish. David shook his head slightly, smiling fondly, curls flying. „You’re the champion, kid“ Hardly, otherwise he would be the one jumping up and down in delight. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, thankful? 

Angry? Not that it mattered, all he got out was a sniff. Instinctively he buried his head on the broad chest, he wanted to hide. „Believe me, you are a winner already, the way you played…Those goals, so much desire, heart and passion, you deserve that cup…“ It’s kind. It doesn’t change anything and maybe David just felt guilty for all those fouls. What the fuck did it matter that in theory he was a champion? He didn’t want to hear how good he was ,when he had just disappointed everyone. What use where goals when they weren't enough? What did talent matter when you couldn’t perform whet it counted? It was nice that David though so highly of him but they were out. It was over. 

No more dreaming. It still hurt. „Give me your Shirt“ David demanded quietly cupping his cheek for a few seconds. He only nodded, he had never been good with words and he is afraid how his voice would sound. Probably as weak and small as he felt. He had done this a million times, but it’s difficult today, like he had to finally accept that it was over. They’re going home. „Thanks…This makes me proud“ David is lightly stroking his face again and he seems so honest that tears come back harder than ever. But he is still there with his broad shoulders and it is easy to just lean into him, feeling his arm securely around his waist. His heartbeat has slowed down, he smells of sweat, grass, some expensive aftershave and something indefinable; like home. However thats possible. He felt even more vulnerable and stupid, bawling his eyes out against a strangers chest, but its somehow okay, he had messed up anyway, he wouldn’t lead anyone anymore. „You’ll get another chance, you have too much fire, too much talent not to…“ David murmured against his neck. He just tried and failed to smile. It sounds nice but right now its too painful to believe, after all he went into this game with hope. Hope. Wasn’t she a little bitch. 

He couldn’t blame David though, not when he was looking at him so kindly. He really had beautiful eyes, so light, brown-green or the other way around? „I wish you were on my team“ He probably didn’t mean any of it, still he snuggled closer. He just wanted to give in for once, what was left to uphold anyway? For a second he felt Davids lips on his forehead and shivered, despite the heat. He was gently being pushed forward, taking one step after the other, without paying attention. All he focused on was Davids warmth, his protective arm around his waist, his soft skin under your fingers. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes an stay. Let go. No keeping up a front, not pretend he knew what he was doing, or smiling when he felt like crying. No more acting. Too early, way too early David lets go. 

Of course he was aware he had to, he couldn't have this, not even in theory. He just wanted to be irresponsible, this once. But he was a good kid, had always been, so he just musters a thankful smile, wiping the last tears away. He knows even less than usual what to tell the press, what did people expect to find out ? They had lost. But he pulled himself together, he was still captain and this was his job. Sooner than expected David was back by his side, repeating his compliments for the world to hear all he managed to do was stumble over his words and simile at him stupidly. Its just a kind gesture, from a great person. Nothing more. Once that was over, he tried even harder to find the right this to say, but every thing seemed silly and childish. So he tried to convey how grateful he was with a smile. They would have to part soon anyway, just a few more steps. This time he was the one pulling David into a hug, because he had to, just one more time. The older man is still wearing the ten on his chest, it felt comforting and exhilarating at once. For a few seconds he closed his eyes and allowed himself to dream of touches, kisses, words that weren’t about football, of nights and mornings. Just smoke and mirrors, nothing more. „Good luck, Captain“ Football is all there is between them. „I..“ suddenly David is the one looking nervous, as though he is just realizing the immense responsibility. „You’ll make it, I believe in you“ This time his simile is completely genuine, he placed a hand in Davids neck for a moment, looking up at him intently. Before sense finally caught up with him and he let go. „Thank you“ David practically beamed at him. He just managed a nod and turned around. He already knew he would watch the semifinal, no matter how much it would hurt, wearing the yellow and green number 4.


	2. Warmth and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again = )
> 
> I hope you like the next chapter. 
> 
> Have fun reading.

James breath hitched slightly, somehow it was oddly difficult to get the air into his lungs, as if he had held his breath for ninety minutes. He only now realized that a few tears were rolling down his face, thankfully he had watched the game by himself. He couldn’t have explained that to anyone. He wasn’t even sure why he was getting so emotional over this, perhaps it was just that old horror film concept? Imagine its happening to you. Anythings else was…It was simply unfair, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Who even scored seven goals in a game like this, had they never heard of respect?! Instead they apparently enjoyed kicking people who were already down. Okay so maybe he was being a tad unfair, he knew from experience how hard it was to stop yourself when you were on a roll, like this and yes the germans had played fantastic, there was no denying that. Still he wanted to rewind, jump into the horror movie and safe the hero. The Brazilians didn’t deserve this, not after Neymars injury. And David…David. It just wasn’t okay, this shouldn’t have happened to him. No matter how miserably he had played, football wasn’t allowed to hurt him like this. As a child he had once found a stray dog, cowering between pile of rubbish, looking so scared and lost. David reminded him of that dog, beaten, kicked and alone. 

His Mum had forbidden him to touch the puppy, she would probably react similarly to his current wishes. But David didn’t cower, he went to the fans, that angry yellow/ green mass and apologized. So much heart, so much strength. Roughly James wiped his own tears away, he had no right to cry, he hadn’t played. It just hurt, that after David had offered him so much kindness and warmth, he just sat here helplessly unable to to anything. Even though after this fiasco nothing he could say would change anything, let alone help. But he had to try, he couldn’t just leave David alone in all this. Not after he had taken care of him, gone beyond and above any fairplay. Just being close to him, allowing himself to be held had been so comforting, for once not having to fight. He shouldn’t think about him like that. Still, all he wanted to do right now was jump onto a plane, but more than likely David wouldn’t even want to see him. He had family and friends around, people that knew what he needed now. Besides how would he be able to explain his appearance? Fucking world, he couldn’t just go and see a friend in need, or maybe his fears were really to blame for that. Impulsively he reached for his phone, of course he didn’t have Davids Number. They weren’t friends. But he played with Givanildo at Porto, he probably still had his number. It was years ago but one of the numbers under Hulk, actually had a Brazilian country code. Quickly, so doubt couldn’t creep into his mind, he typed. His request sounded wired no matter how he phrased it anyway. He probably wouldn’t get an answer anyway, at the very least not for hours. Better he found something to do, another close-up of David crying and he would do something stupid. 

If he didn’t act like some crazed stalker he might even gain Davids friendship, that would be worth a lot. So he wasn’t even tempted to stare down his mobile, he got up. He still to make himself some dinner. He shouldn’t start neglecting his body, after all his health was part of his capital. Slowly, methodically he chopped up vegetables, turning carrots, peppers, zucchini and tomatoes, into neat geometrical shapes. He fried everything with stripes of a chicken filet and placed a portion on a plate, leaning against the counter to eat. Or rather force the food down his throat, he wasn’t hungry, actually he felt slightly sickened after every bite. At least he had a reason to clean the kitchen afterwards and while he was at it he might as well do the rest of his place. Sorting laundry, making the bed, arranging the messy pile of sneakers into a neat line by the door. He had alway appreciated order, like if things looked sorted on the outside his insides must be okay as well. At least it was easier to pretend that way. He was about to mop the kitchen floor when he heard his mobile vibrate in the livingroom. Running a hand through his hair, he swallowed his nerves, and went over to check. Just a Thank you and a Number. Now all it took was dialing, it felt daunting, it couldn’t really be that simple, could it? What the hell was he supposed to say anyway? He wasn’t good with words at the best of times. Still he couldn’t not call, he needed to let David know that he was there even if there wasn’t anything he could do. He still waited though, another half an hour of cleaning and there was a chance that David was back in his hotel. Finally he settled down on his bed, holding his breath as he listened to the dial tone. Hopefully David would pick up before he fainted. „Hello?“ His voice sounds so desperately composed, that the tears seemed all the more evident. He wished he could scramble through the phone. „Its James…Rodriguez“ he answered trying hard to hide his nervousness. „James…how are you?“ It was an everyday question but Davids friendliness left him at loss for words. „Good…Its nice to be home and…seeing the fans so happy…“ 

Great he was already rambling nonsensically, the last the David wanted to hear was how they had celebrated with their fans. „Of course they were, you played a great world-cup and have every reason to be proud of yourself“ David didn’t sound annoyed, quite the opposite he detected some of that warmth in his voice. „You really helped me, you know? And I haven’t even thanked you yet…well I didn’t have your number so…“ Maybe it was better to avoid the game altogether. „I am glad I could help you a little and by the way many people did you have to call for my number?“ If David found this odd he didn’t let it on. „Actually a text to your green Monster was all it took“ He replied snuggling a little deeper into his pillow. „What?! Looks like I have to give that boy a good talking to“ David obviously tried to sound threatening and failed, he just wasn’t. „Really? I mean I am not saying your weak…but you vs the Hulk, that might not end so well“ he teased with a chuckle. „Are you calling me a whimp?!“ He could almost see Davids pout. „Of course not“ How could he? 

Even after failing at the biggest stage possible, he had shown so much strength and bravery, not shrinking, not making excuses, like most people would have. He would probably be sitting in a plane to siberia if the roles were reversed. „Good“ He found himself scrambling for words again as the silence went on too long, he had called he couldn’t expect David to do all the talking. „How is Neymar?“ Stupid question. „Better, he’ll be okay, but he was lucky…“ It had been horrible to see Neymar on the ground, crying in pain. „Thats good, tell him I’m sorry and to get well soon“ He hadn’t been involved in the injury but he still felt somehow responsible for his teammates. „I will, but you have nothing to be sorry for“ David promised, again he was the one calming him down. „But even with one leg Ney would have been better than me today…actually the ball boy would have done better…or…or…there is this old man in my apartment complex in London, he has this ugly pug and…“ Davids voice breaks but he still tries to laugh desperately at his own joke. It sounds more like sob. He was prepared for this, just not how much it would hurt. „I’m sorry James…I..“ „Apologize one more time and I’ll kick your ass“ He interrupts, sharper that he means to. David just shouldn’t feel the need to say sorry, he was every right to cry. No matter how painful it was to listen to it. „You don’t have to pretend, not with me…“ He added softly, it wasn’t much but he just wanted to be here for him. „Thanks“ David mumbled evidently still trying to hold back his tears. „It okay…I cried about much less, remember?“ 

David almost managed a chuckle. „True you bawled your eyes out all over me“ He had, and even if some people though otherwise, he wasn’t embarrassed about it on the contrary he was glad that he had been able to accept Davids comfort like that. Otherwise he wouldn’t have known how kindhearted the other man was. „And it felt good…so really just you know cry or yell or both if you want“ The little hurt sound coming from David was so unlike him that he closed his eyes for a minute to compose himself. David was finally letting go, all he heard were low sniffs and the occasional mumbled word. At some point he began talking himself, just random calming words to let David know he was there. That he cared even though he hardly knew him and he probably couldn’t imagine his pain. His hand was falling asleep and his ear felt numb but he continued talking until he heard David taking a deep, still slightly strangled breath, obviously he was trying to compose himself. „It was awful wasn’t it? I mean I played horribly…?“ He would have loved to lie, but that wouldn’t have been fair. „You did, but…one game doesn’t define you…not as a player and much less as a person…“ He had never wished he was good with words more. No matter how hard he had worked at it in moments like this he still felt clumsy and inadequate. „But I was captain, I’ve disappointed everyone…I look like…did you see how I played?“ 

„You didn’t disappoint me, not one bit…I’ll wear your jersey again on saturday“ He just needed David to understand that he hadn’t disappointed him. „You’re wearing my shirt?“ In an instant David sounded teasing. At least he couldn’t see him turning red. „Yeah“ he mumbled, how on earth was he going to explain that? David probably thought he was a complete freak. „Will you come to the game against the Netherlands?“ „Of course“ he replied without thinking, he didn’t need to, nothing would stop him from going. „Thank you…I probably should go, Oscar is devastated…and I can’t hide forever“ He didn’t feel like hanging up but of course David wanted to be there for his teammates. „Okay then…I’ll see you saturday“ Stupidly he felt excited saying this. „See you…and wear my jersey“ He could practically hear David grin before the line clicked. It was over and he really should get some sleep, but he needed to book a flight first.


	3. Despair & Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again, 
> 
> as always have fun reading =)

David pulled his hood further over his eyes, this probably wasn’t a good idea, actually it was very likely a terrible one. Scolari had basically allowed them to do whatever they wanted, after all it was over. Still being caught could land him into trouble, even end his international career, though considering his recent performances that would be doing his team a favor. Even when you left out the risk, it was morally questionable at best, to leave his teammates right now, he was vice-captain. But right now his desire, to flee, hide, escape had completely taken over his mind. He knew there was no way he could truly run away from this fiasco, the images in his head were already hunting him down. It hurt, more that he thought football could. So bad that he had actually stopped feeling any of it, pictures of himself crying on national TV? So what. Every singe one of hose horrible goals. Ten. Ten! Who cares? Being mocked all over the internet? Didn’t bother him. Not at all. He just wanted to feel…safe, even for a minute. Of course he could have found comfort with his family, very likely most of his colleagues though he was with his sister, after all he usually sought her out when he need a shoulder to cry on. David ducked a little passing a few tourists. He needed something different than tough sisterly love. He wanted a raspy voice telling him sweet nothings, a solid warm body he could lean against and that sunshine smile. Maybe he was fooling himself, using this disaster to act on his desires. Not that it mattered, he wouldn’t turn around. 

The lobby was conveniently crowded, so he just bowed his head down and slipped past a group of business men into the lift, pressing the „shut“ button even though a family was just approaching. He felt bad but he couldn’t risk being recognized, he had no good explanation for being here, if worse came to worse, he would have to make up a girl. But for now all he had left to conquer was a few meters of corridor. Maybe he should feel nervous, after all he was meeting a virtual stranger…to what? Cry his eyes out? Curse that fate bitch? Or…No not even in his mind he would go there. He had hardly finished knocking when the door swung open, revealing James; all shy smile, flushed cheeks, smelling freshly showered. Holy crap. „Hey“ James took an inviting step backwards. „Hey..you“ He really wanted to make conversation, be polite and all that, but seeing his jersey hanging over a chair, James must have really worn it to the game, like…

Like it was something to be proud of. Abandoning all sense and reason he practically flung himself at the younger man. An embarrassing whimper escaped his lips when James wrapped his arms around him pulling him close. He just…couldn’t…and he no longer wanted to. It killed his neck, James really was short, but he still buried his face against his shoulder. Inhaling James scent, exciting and familiar, even though the later defied all logic. James had one arm securely around his waist, stroking his neck with the other hand. It wasn’t anything special, still for the first time, in what seemed like years, something felt truly comforting. „Come on…“ James tugged him lightly towards the bed. He was blushing again. Adorable. „It’s not my fault you’re a hobbit“ he grinned through his tears and James huffed without conviction. „I do not have woolly feet“ he stated while flopping down on the bed. „Now thats good to know“ he winked and settled down himself, close but not quite touching, he was never entirely sure how far he was allowed to go, he hardly knew him after all, even though, all he wanted to do is hide against his chest. James simply pulled him into a tight embrace. He just closed his eyes and allowed himself to be enveloped in his warmth. 

„I can’t believe it’s just…over…we didn’t even, not anything…It just wasn’t supposed to end like this“ he mumbled more to himself. It still felt surreal, not that he had been certain they’d win but he hadn’t contemplated going out like this either. The worst brazil ever, a laughing stock, a disappointment so big there wasn’t even a word for it. He didn’t like to admit this to himself, because millions of little kids would give their left hand to be in his shoes, but he was glad it was over. All he wanted to do was be plain old David again. He lacked the energy to rile his teammates and the strength to offer support but above all the constant fear of another mistake was slowly eating him up. „You know Thiago talked about Russia…and the Coppa, today…I can’t even imagine playing again…“ he continued. James cupped his face, just looking at him for a moment. „You don’t have to, you are allowed a break…No matter how awful you played, you tried…I…I know you did and I am proud of you…even if that sounds silly…I am, you know how you said you would love to play on the same team?…I would love to play with you too“ David smiled softly, James had the tendency to stumble over his words, ramble in a wild mix of spanish and portuguese but he sounded so earnest, like he really mattered to him. James had flown thousands of miles, he was here now, believing in him when he needed it the most. „You know what my Uncle used to say? ‚Ever tried, ever failed, try again, fail again. fail better‘“ „So what you#re saying is, next time a ten: nil is in order?“ he chuckled despite the horrifying thought. „Thats the spirit“ James laughed lightly, stroking his cheek for a second, before averting his gaze and pulling his hand away, like he was embarrassed by his gesture. Well your position, pressed closely together on a bed was somewhat compromising, but it could still be considered friendly. Extreme circumstances and all that. „Look, the sun is rising“ James whispered his breath ghosting over his skin. 

Indeed a very faint light was breaking the darkness outside. David shuffled around a little so he could watch the dawn, while staying in James arms. He wouldn’t leave until he had to. Strange how something so common could be so beautiful. The idea of a new day still felt daunting, there would still be journalists and fans demanding an explanation he couldn’t give. But he also felt a tad lighter, James was right after all, football wise it couldn’t really get much worse. Slowly he truly relaxed, snuggled against James he looked out of the window. After a while the breathing next to him got deeper and James arm around him slackened slightly. He looked breathtaking asleep and too innocent for his own good. Fuck. It took a lot of willpower not to pull him closer, perhaps pressing a goodnight kiss onto his cheek. He couldn’t do that, although so far their encounters had involved a lot of cuddling, James always appeared guarded, hesitating a split second as if debating weather what he was about to do was okay, only rarely flashing that real smile, the one where his eyes shone and both rows of teeth showed. It had to take a lot out of someone naturally so shy and reserved to be the next big thing in football. Though he guessed there must bee a steely core behind that sweet face and his gentle demeanor. You didn’t get this far without it. 

He did allow himself to run his fingers through James short hair, just for a second. It wasn’t right to take advantage of his kindness. But having James so close, god he was pretty and hot. Stuck somewhere between a boy and a man. He just…He hadn’t known, or rather not allowed himself to think about how much he missed this, just having another man so close. Without it being straight fucking or goofing around with friends. Of course there wasn’t anything in this, he would be happy to have him as his friend, he had to be. It just felt too good to dream, to pretend this was something he could have. Usually he did okay, apart from the occasional hook-up, always rushed, always scared, he just put a smile on and played the geezer. He always felt it was easier to overcome things with a joke and a grin, telling himself that tomorrow would be better, even if he knew better. He loved football too much and he didn’t have the guts to risk an outing. His body was starting to demand sleep but he fought against it. He didn’t want to miss anything, besides he didn’t trust himself enough to let got completely around James. So he stayed awake watching the sunrise and the sleeping boy in his arms. Until it was late enough to order breakfast. Thats what a friend would do, though he made sure to tell the friendly lady to just knock and leave the tray outside because his girlfriend was still sleeping. He wasn’t keen on being spotted in James Rodríguez Hotelroom. 

He should get up and shower but James still felt so good next to him. He would…Miss him, yes, he was already that gone for James, soon enough. Only when the food arrived did he get up, carefully he pushed the trolley inside. James stirred opening his eyes, pouting at the sun as if it had personally offended him. „Morning“ he grumbled and David did his best to ignore the shiver running down his back. Who knew he came with a sexy morning voice? „Hey, sorry to wake you“ He would treasure this image, James all ruffled and drowsy returning his smile, softly and unguarded. „You got breakfast“ James dragged himself out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He arranged everything so they could sit comfortably on the sofa. After all, friends didn’t have breakfast in bed together, did they? James returned, looking decidedly more awake, just as he was pouring him a cup of coffee. „Thank you, this is great“ He practically inhaled his coffee all the while shoveling a small mountain of sugar into the cup. „How is it you still have teeth? David teased, by now there had to be more sugar in the cup than coffee. „Good genes“ James bared his pearly whites at him. 

„And I need something sweet in the morning to help me face the day“ he still grinned but there was no light in it. He was tempted to ask what James needed to face but that wasn’t his place yet. „Do you have to meet with your team today?“ He winced slightly, suddenly loosing interest in his toast. There was another press conference today, they would probably show a highlights reel of all his mistakes, just to rub it in. „Another press thing, to explain, I guess“ Or to be flogged and pelted with rotten eggs. „I know…I can’t come…with you…but I am“ James was visibly struggling to find the right words. „Thank you, it means a lot, all of it“ Probably more than James could imagine. The younger man blushed chewing on bit bottom lip. „I’m glad we’re…friends?“ James ventured carefully. They weren’t, they didn’t know enough about each other. But acquaintances seemed completely wrong and everything else was out of the question.“ „Tell me about columbia“ he replied leaning back into his chair. Taking small sips of his coffee and simply listened to James. For the first time in more than a month, the world cup, actually football in general didn’t matter so much anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is actually from Samuel Beckett and no I don't think James Uncle  
> reads Beckett but it jus fits Davids situation so perfectly.


	4. Worries and Elation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally its here =)   
> It's a bit of a filler with little action but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> Have fun reading

James pulled the covers up and wrapped himself tightly, he was cold despite the heat outside, Maybe he had caught something, the flue perhaps. More likely it was just the lack of sleep that had him shivering. He had always been a troubled sleeper, but right now, when he had more reasons than ever to dream of a golden future, rest eluded him completely. He had hoped he would find it easier in the comforting strangeness of Bogóta after being suffocated by all that familiarity. Memories around every corner. But the noises and smells were too foreign, his apartment pretty, like something from a catalogue. He should get up really, it wasn’t healthy to stay in bed until noon but without a set schedule or politeness forcing him, he found it hard to gather enough strength to do it. Or maybe he just lacked the incentive. 

He should be happy, ecstatic even but he just felt empty, drained. Maybe it was the waiting, the endless back and froth between agents that wore him down so much. He felt selfish an guilty Monaco had given him a lot after all and he had hardly repaid their trust. It felt completely unreal anyway, Real Madrid, his dream. The glorious white he had watched on his uncles old TV, blurry and choppy but completely magical. How could he be part of that? Ridiculous. It was probably better for his sanity to believe it wouldn’t happen. The world cup had already been incredible it would be greedy to ask for more, after all he was lucky to have anything. With one wrong word, one mistake and it would all be over. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, he was so careful, always settling for a female body next to his when the loneliness got too painful. Back home though it always hung over his head like a black cloud of forced politeness and thinly veiled insults. How ironic, that the place where he most wanted to forget never failed to make him remember everything that was wrong with him, in everyones eyes. He was damaged goods, no matter how hard he worked to paper over the cracks. Maybe thats why he couldn’t feel excited, he didn’t dare, after all the world could notice any moment that he was just a fraud, just a faggot. Sighing he rolled over and climbed out of bed, it wasn’t healthy to behave like this. A cold shower later, he didn’t feel any more like venturing out but at least he didn’t look like a complete hermit anymore. 

Besides his phone was buzzing, indicating a message, so someone wanted to contact him. Probably his Agent throwing unreal numbers around. David. He grinned, grabbing the phone and settling down on the balcony, before unlocking his mobile. It was a picture of David in a hammock, legs dangling, big grin on his face with the caption „Have just decided that in my next life I’m going to sleep professionally ;-)“ It felt good to see David so relaxed, he deserved a break more than anything. He had tried so hard to put on a brave face, to somehow explain that disastrous world-cup but the press had just gotten more hurtful by the minute. Of course he shouldn’t have read all those articles and comments in the first place but somehow he wanted to hurt alongside David, or for him? Because there wasn’t anything else he could do. He wasn’t good with words or wise in any way and certainly didn’t have Davids courage. „Good plan, make some space for me ;-)“ He only realized how that sounded after he had pressed send. God David must think that he…and after all that cuddling they had done. Trying to rapidly add some sort of explanation he hit the call button instead, he really was to clumsy for his own good. But hanging up now would be beyond rude. „Missing me already?“ Strange but Davids cheerful voice always seemed to calm him down. „Of course, I want to share you’re hammock, remember?“ It was probably better to play this off as a joke, although in the back of his mind the idea of cuddling against his naked torso seemed more than a little appealing. „I’ll always have room for you“ He sounds so sincere it takes his breath away for a moment until he remembered that David was probably just joking as well. „Good to know“ he mumbled his wit deserting him quickly as usual. „How are you anyway? I meant to call you today..“ David asked, like he was genuinely interested to hear his worries. „Good, nothing definite on the move yet but I guess I’ll just have to be patient“ The last thing he wanted to do to annoy David with his worries. After all he should be overjoyed nothing more nothing less. 

„I know its hard, it always is but Real would be crazy not to want you…and you’ll be great there..“ It might just be the connection but David doesn’t sound as convinced as he probably intended and that hurts because he needs someone to be certain for him so badly. Someone to guide him, give him a hug anything. He had never dealt with loneliness well, yet he could hardly escape it. Teammates, Friends they all had their own life and anything beyond that was just a fantasy. It would all be okay again once he had the ball on his feet. Once he had a purpose again. „Thanks, I’ll just have to wait and let my agent handle everything…But enough of that how are you? And how is your family?“ David always spoke with so much warmth of his family that he could almost picture them together having dinner, playing around at the pool or just talking. 

„I’m good, I mean the mob hasn’t found me and pelted me with rotten eggs yet“ David jokes making him chuckle slightly. „Oh they are still hunting for you? Want me to send over some protective gear, an anti-radiation suit or a gas mask maybe?“ He replied grinning, he loved how easy it was to just joke around with David, he wasn’t particularly witty and usually would rather just listen to his teammates banter but with the Brazilian he never felt stupid. „Maybe you could come over and protect me instead?“ He just wished David wouldn’t sound so flirty, he was sure it meant nothing, it was probably just his personality…But he never knew how to deal with that…he was another man, a colleague…still those comments made him blush and grin like a fool. „I…don’t think I’d be very useful“ He hardly felt able to protect himself let alone anyone else. „Well I could always use you as a shield…besides you’d be here….“ David voice sounds so low and soft it sends shivers down your spine. (Must be the connection again) „Uhm…yes…I…so hows your family?“ He felt himself turning red at his own stupidity, this was usually how their conversations went, they would chat easily until David said something he couldn’t place and he would respond with some inane question. ( What did you have for dinner? Or so are you with your family? Had been a particular highlights) But even more so than the easy teasing, he enjoyed just listening to Davids voice, telling him stories with so much life and warmth. 

 

******

„They agreed David, they did, they really want me, Madrid can you believe it?! I flew over last night and singed, Carlo says I am in his plans, isn’t that crazy? I’ll get to play alongside Ronaldo, I’ll wear white. They are even giving me the ten. Ten! Me! It’s…They even want to do a presentation at the Bernabeu, just for me“ The words came out it such a rush he struggled to decipher them, his spanish was rusty at best after all. Though the excitement of the younger man is impossible to miss and has him smiling to himself. „James… slow down, a little okay?“ He could almost see his face right now, all shining eyes and megawatt grin. „I’m sorry…I just..I still can’t believe it, me…at Real“ James still sounds breathless but quieter as though the reality of it all is slowly thinking in. „You deserve it, you are more than good enough…“ He didn’t have the slightest doubt James had all the footballing skills necessary to succeed at Madrid. „Thank you…really that means a lot“ There it is again, that bloody sincerity. It’s stupid but it never failed to touch him. „You’re welcome, you earned this..“ If only he could be there and properly share this moment with him, but of course they weren’t close enough for that, barely friends, really. It felt like so much more. „They..want me to make some kind of speech, when I’m presented I mean..“ Even through is happiness he thought he could detect a hint of insecurity, no wonder as certain as he appeared on the pitch James certainly didn’t seem to enjoy the spotlight. „You’ll be fine, just stick to the basics and when you get nervous take a breath…and show off that pretty smile of yours“ Hardly anyone would care what he said when James beamed at them. Okay so maybe he wasn’t exactly objective when it came to James. „Okay…I’ll do my best, I just want to get this right…I mean I feel so honored to be here“ Something in his voice has him swallowing hard, he hoped to god James would do well, he just had to. „You will, they’ll love, they’d be idiots not to“ How could anyone with a heat and a love for football not fall in love with all that talent, with that raw youthful joy? „I…David…I“ James stuttered and suddenly voices could be heard in the background. „I have to go…I’ll call you tonight, okay?“ James mumbled obviously frustrated. „Sure, don’t worry…we’ll talk later“ he assured him though he felt somehow uneasy about letting James go, he just enjoyed talking to him too much. „Bye David…and thanks“ The line went dead before he could reply. Closing his eyes he dropped his mobile carelessly and buried a hand in his hair. He should feel elated, Real was James big dream and he deserved this but he couldn’t quite shake off the doubts. 

Marcelo had more than enough confidence that wasn’t easily shaken but even after years he still felt the pressure at Madrid. The unrelenting attention, the sky-high expectations and the dressing room filled with huge egos, a shark-pond was probably inviting in comparison. He just wasn’t sure how James with his stutter, his unassuming kindness, his doubts would handle all of that. Of course he was a grown-up and hardly new to this, besides James shown him before how much strength he possessed. But he had jus experienced what it felt like when the pressure build like an ever tightening rope around your neck, when every mistake, even every move that wasn’t perfect felt like a failure, when whistles and jeers rang in your ears drowning out your thoughts. He just didn’t want James…James of all people to be subjected to his, he just wanted him to be happy. And by his side.


	5. Sticks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, 
> 
> finally I've finished the next chapter =)
> 
> I hope you've fun reading!

He had never been one for silences, he liked people, laughter, the intense discussions ranging from football, to politics to who knew the best Vatapa recipe, that always accompanied dinner back home. Here though he enjoyed the quiet, the world shut out by the thick walls of his hotel room. The sun streaming through the sloppily closed curtain the only hit of the day passing him by. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Paris, the city was beautiful, his teammates were friendly, the staff was okay too. He had Thiago here too one of his best friends, so really he should be overjoyed. He would be, if only IT wouldn’t be everywhere, in every Interview question, in the way his teammates sometimes stopped talking when he entered the dressing-room, in the pity on Thiago’s face. But most of all it hung over him like threatening black cloud every time his feet touched the ball, the jeers echoing in his mind, that horrible, horrible scoreline flashing before his inner eyes. He should be able to shake this off, he was better than this. But he couldn’t help it, he was That guy now. The seven to one guy, whose crying face had been splashed across more newspapers and TV-screens that he cared to know. He wanted to call his colleagues to talk about it but he didn’t know who to talk to usually he was the one everyone else turned to when they needed cheering up. Besides he should be over this by now, it was no good opening up old wounds. He just hoped that the real games, that the rush competing and winning would bit by bit banish the memories. But for that they had to win games and even though he felt horrible for admitting this to himself, he wasn’t sure they would, of course this was a team brimming with talent but despite the frequent moments of brilliance, usually involving Zlatan, their play often felt stilted, fragmented, like the pieces were never quite fitting. It didn’t help that Thiago would be out for weeks just when he needed his reassuring presence next to him the most. He needed to go out, just walking city streets, exploring, people watching had always been one of his comforts.

He didn’t like to admit to himself why he was doing it less and less these days, sharing his experiences over the phone just wasn’t the same as having him along and he wanted that so badly. Each time he saw something that made him smile he wanted to turn around and watch James face. It was bad, nothing could ever come off this. They were both footballers, separated by thousand of miles and narrow expectations of what they should be like, (straight with a model by their side). He maybe an optimist but he wasn’t stupid, dreaming about James, that bright smile, his raspy voice, body curled against his simultaneously seeking and providing comfort, was fine, doing anything about his desires wasn’t. He had always maintained that colleagues were of limits after all James was hardly the first teammate he found attractive. Oscar had seriously tested his resolve during his first few months at Chelsea, he had relied on him for everything and already affectionate, the younger man was seriously cuddly when he was struggling. But Ludy had been there, if not in person, she was still always with Oscar, as a constant reminder of his boundaries. James didn’t have a girlfriend, he had so far never even mentioned any relationship and none of the gossip-magazines had managed to dig anything up. That shouldn’t be enough to give him hope, but of course it was. After all what he felt for James had long passed attraction and friendly affection, maybe it had immediately been more? It’s hadn’t just been sportsmanship that led him over to James that day. And it had certainly been more than gratitude that had caused him to seek out the younger man after the game against the Netherlands.

He wouldn’t call it falling in love, because he wasn’t sure you could do that having only seen someone twice but it was still there, raw and confusing.Leaving him with silly daydreams and and an obsessive connection to his phone. It was all they had, calls, texts and Skype. It was beautiful out, the low afternoon sun giving everything a golden glow, there was a hint of cold in the air too, like a reminder that autumn was around the corner. Just the right combination to clear his head, but of course as if to mock him a Bus bearing the number 71 threatened to hit him as he was crossing the street. Fucking fantastic headline that would have made. Spontaneously he took a picture of the retreating vehicle and send it to James. „How does David Luiz hit by the 7-1 Bus sound to you?“ Macabre? Yes of course, but sometimes humor needed to wear a really dark coat. „Horrid, I need you to  keep everything you can crossed for me tonight ;-)“ The reply came almost instantly, warming him against the frosty wind blowing around the corners. He knew how important this was to James, he had only talked positively of his first weeks at Madrid but what he hadn’t said and the questions he had asked, spoke volumes. He would have watched the match anyway but now he would do all he could to show James that he believed in him, that he was there to support him no matter how the game went. No matter how any games in the future would go. „No bus could stop me from doing that, I’ll be there, jersey on“  He would, silly but he had already planned to oder room service and watch the match. „It’s good to know you’ll be there“ James was never consciously flirty but every once in a while, he said or wrote things that were so genuinely affectionate, that his heart seemed to stop for a few seconds. Until his brain caught up and reminded him that he had no clue how to interpret James behavior. It was getting to him more than it should, after all nothing, absolutely nothing could ever be between them, right? If only it wouldn’t be so hard to convince his silly heart of this fact. He just…missed James, especially when he struggled withe the impact of the world-cup. He wanted so badly to curl up against him, listening his is soft voice. Just letting go. Dreaming. Impulsively he took his phone out again and scrolled through his contacts. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to watch the game by himself. He isn’t even sure why he texts Zlatan of all people, perhaps because he may still have some interest in La Liga or rather because he didn’t know him very well, with Zlatan it would feel like just watching a game, nothing more. 

 

                                                                               ******

 

Actually no it wasn’t just watching a match. Okay so there was beer but that was about the only thing standard about this. Well really what did he expect? This was Zlatan Ibrahimovic. Of course he had a house that looked like it came straight out of AD magazine and his wife baked delicious cinnamon swirls. Its just the right mix of familiar, toys-scattered around the living-room, a messily packed PSG-Bag by the entrance and foreign, huge pictures of landscapes that look like something from a fairytale, the way Zlatans voice changes when he speaks swedish, to be comfortable yet distracting. He only glances at the screen every once in a while and isn’t desperately searching for James face. It helps that for all his trademark arrogance, Zlatan is easy company, the jokes fly around in a mix of spanish and english. „So Madrid, for you?“ Zlatan asks just as the teams are about to line up. „Of course“ That probably came a little too quickly, so he added a: „Marcelo is a good friend“ Which was true after all. „I don’t care much for Barca, anymore“ Zlatan just states as if that explained all of his allegiances. Not that it mattered much, he cared more about James performance than the game itself. „He’s not half bad, that Colombian kid..“ Zlatan remarked casually though for him, half-bad probably was a huge compliment. „Best thing to come out of that fucking world-cup“ He would phrase it quite like that but he couldn’t agree more, not that he would tell Zlatan that. „Not too fond of the germans either?“ he asked instead grinning. He never blamed the players they had just done their job unlike him. „I’ve nothing against them, I don’t discriminate but seven goals…you don’t do that on someone else's turf“ Well it was hard to blame someone if they were so willingly invited, after all no insurance would refund your stolen car if you left the key on the passenger-seat. „So you wouldn’t have scored seven goals?“ He shot back raising an eyebrow. Zlatan wasn’t exactly known for restraint. „Oh I would have, but thats different, you can’t limit a genius“ Sadly enough there are no cushions on his couch to throw at him so he just rolled his eyes. James run across the pitch effortlessly evading half his opponents captured his attention anyway. He couldn't help wincing when he overhit the final pass to Bale. Impulsively he touched the jersey underneath his sweater, as if that could somehow bring James luck. He tried, he wanted to do well, everyone could see that. It just didn’t quite work out.

Of course it was normal, he needed time to form an understanding with his teammates, to adapt to his new role. But Madrid wasn’t a club known for its patience. He tried to focus on the easy banter with Zlatan rather than on watching James but only really succeeded when the younger man was substituted. He looked suddenly so small, lost even, but still smiling. How much determination stood behind that beam? Well at least they were about to win their first title, that might ease the pressure a little. „Lets hope Madrid doesn’t break him“ Hopefully Zlatan brought the topic of James back because the camera had just focused on him and not because he caught him staring. He had to make it, of course there was no shame in not succeeding at Real, great players hadn’t but what happened to Ricky, not the injuries, the other stuff  couldn’t happen to him. Ricardo had been a lot older, more experienced, with a family around to give him strength. Of course he shouldn’t  think like this…James was old enough to take care of himself. „Yeah, let hope so“ He didn’t even attempt to sound lighthearted, he would fail anyway. Hiding his emotions just wasn’t his strong point, maybe thats what attracted him to James so much, that the younger man despite his shyness was brave enough to be open about his feeling. Even when it meant half the world saw him at his most vulnerable. Zlatan watched him intently for a few seconds, too long. So long fear began creeping up at the back of his mind getting all the decoy answers ready to attack. „Want to stay for dinner?“  Wait what? „Uhm…Sure“  He wasn’t even sure he wanted to but it was probably healthier than staying at home and worrying. After a lll one thing was for certain, for James Madrid had been the only option, this was his dream, the big one and who was he to taint that with  his doubts? He had to believe in James. 

 

 

                                                                  *******

 

James calls just as he has closed his door behind him. He flops down on his bed kicking off his shoes as he answers. „Hey Champ“ It shouldn’t make him so happy that James was calling him even though he was probably out celebrating. „Hey, did you see it?“ He doesn’t sound as euphoric as he’d expected and it’s completely quiet around him. Perhaps Carlo had imposed a strict curfew, it was hardly a big trophy after all. „Of course I did…you played well“  It was a lie, trying your hardest wasn’t the same as playing well. „No I didn’t, don’t lie to me David“  The obvious hurt in his voice felt like a deserved slap. „I’m sorry but I know you tried, your did your best..“ The words were hollow, meaningless but he hadn’t been prepared for this. „Who cared? Who here gives a damn if you try…“ The sharpness in his voice didn’t suit, it was almost as if he was hardening himself, like he needed protection against the hurt that was bound to come. „James, you’ve just won your first title and you will get better, you need to figure out your place in the team, thats normal…“ He was pretty sure there was more to it than an unsatisfying game but pressing  wouldn’t help, he knew that by now. „I know and I am happy and proud…But Toni had a great game and its just…I knew it was going to be hard, I guess I just miss home and need to suck it up“ He silently cursed the distance, wanting nothing more than pull James into a hug right now. „You’ll be fine, nothing…nothing can take away your talent, just trust yourself, remember what it feels like to play for Colombia“ James sighed audibly at the other end. „I’ll try, I’m being stupid, aren’t I? I mean, I’ve already won something, I should be happy, I am…“

Sometimes he really wanted to shake James, he needed to stop being so hard on himself. „You’re not being stupid but it’s okay too to celebrate even if you weren’t vital to the win..“ „Its…I am just so glad I can talk to you“ He hoped he would never get used to that genuine warmth. „You can…after all who would I whinge to if I didn’t have you?“ Okay so he could alway talk to his sister but as much as he valued and adored her, she wasn’t in football, some things were hard for her to understand. „One day, It’ll just be a bad memory, I don’t know how long it is going to take but you’ll play and a mistake will be just that, not some nightmare..“ How was it that he could be so comfortingly certain when giving him advice but had so little trust in himself? „I know, its just hard when everyone thinks PSG made the worst decision in world when they signed me, like they spend  millions on a laughing stock…“ Strange how he never felt silly talking to James or like he was burdening him with his worries. He usually just tried to make a joke before anyone else did when the world-cup came up. „They didn’t, you are a great player and an even better person, having someone like you on a team could never be a bad thing, never“ He just wished he had James on his team too ,stupid but the dark cloud always felt a little less threatening talking to him. „You’re are a great person too, you know that?“ He never could tell him just how amazing he though he was. „Oh stop being cute“ „You think I’m cute?“ He really shouldn’t but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. „Yes“ He had expected him to make an excuse or at least stutter but his affirmation came quick and certain, of course that didn’t have to mean anything. „Thank you“ It was probably best to enjoy the compliment and not make a big deal out of it. „I..meant what I said earlier, my parents…well they have their own life and it’s hard to find people you can trust, well for me anyway“ He was tempted to ask how much of an own life parents could have that they didn’t care about the wellbeing of their only son but bit his tongue. He had realized over the past weeks that James would confide in him in bits, comments and little stories and slowly painted a picture. Of his struggles with homesickness and bullying in Argentina, hours spend alone in a dusty library piecing words together in his head…

Finding a sense of belonging in the blue and white of Porto, his struggle to adjust to the glitz of Monaco, through it all there was a sense of loneliness. Even though he didn't have a bad word to say about anyone, there were few people he spoke of with real affection. Strange really because he couldn’t imagine who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone so kindhearted. „I know….“ He was tempted to encourage James to talk to Marcelo but that felt too much like meddling. „Maybe we get a chance to meet in september, even if its just for a few minutes“  James sounded as hopeful as he felt when he said that, fuck how was he supposed to keep his feelings in check when he talked like that? „If I’m called up, we will“ The list wasn’t out yet and after his performance he couldn’t be sure. „You will be, I need my revanche against you after all“  He could hear his grin and felt his own lips curve into a smile. „Yeah right, better ready yourself to have you pretty ass kicked again“  He closed his eyes and just listened to James laughter. He needed their conversations, the feeling that at least for a moment nothing could truly frighten him, as much as James did. 

 

 

                                                                                 ******

 

His body hurt, every motion a struggle, as he finally made his way to the changing-rooms. It wasn’t so much the extra effort he put in, so he could at least be physically at the same level as his teammates but the constant tension that his muscles were complaining about. He just had to constantly look over his shoulder, maybe some day an ease would set it but right now a hot shower would have to do. He almost flinched when he heard the chatter, he had expected, hoped everyone had gone home by now. Instead Iker, Sergio and Cristiano of all people, just his luck. Not that they were mean, he could deal with that after all there were plenty of reasons to mock him, it was a friendliness he could never quite trust, filled with silences, double-edged compliments and belittling care.

„Colombiano, what were you doing training all this time? You should rest more“ Here they went, he was sure that somewhere they meant well, the last thing he wanted was to act like an ungrateful brat.He just wanted this, so, so badly…He wanted to do well, to be properly part of this team. Not just a shiny, new accessory no one really needed. „Yeah you’re not that fit“ Cristiano added and he really didn’t want to blush at the once-over he gave him but his body betrayed him as usual. „I’m okay..“ he wanted to sound certain, he tried but of course even if he got the words out in one go his voice shook. „Well you look exhausted, are you taking care of yourself?“ He bit back the bratty comeback.He had lived by himself, dealt with his fucking loneliness for years after all and probably would util his career was over. „I’m fine, really, no worries“ He flashed his best simile instead. „I’ll see you tomorrow“ He made sure his steps were measured, he wasn’t running away. But he would rather freeze in his sweaty clothes than shower here. He would probably manage to get even showering wrong, somehow. Like pretty much everything else. At least no one was outside to see him kill off his car, twice. How utterly pathetic he must look to them, they had everything, they knew how to act, train, eat…they had perfect girlfriends and families they could go home to. They had the kind of lives he wanted so badly and would never have. His suits never fit, he wasn’t witty and he was a fucking fagott. 


End file.
